Play For Me
by Gindokei
Summary: Alphonse Elric has two siblings. One fights with him, and one fights for him. One protects him, and the other mothers him. Both of them have short tempers, though... Winry, Alphonse and a piano. Not AlxWinry.


_Play For Me_

**AN: I've been struck with inspiration! I hope you enjoy this little story. I always wanted to write brotherly/sisterly Alphonse/Winry interaction.**

**Disclaimer: I own no part of **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** – all characters originated from the mind of Ms. Hiromu Arakawa. They're all her brainchildren. (That looks weird…)**

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**Alphonse loved two people more than anything in the world. He would fight to protect them, and die to save them. They were his perfect complements, his brother and sister in all ways that mattered.

Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell.

Alphonse knew he didn't know everything about his brother or Winry. He knew that they both kept secrets from him – not necessarily out of choice or even knowingly. But they did.

For instance… he'd never known that Winry could play the piano.

He didn't even know the Rockbells _owned_ a piano.

But one night, when Edward was fast asleep and granny Pinako in her workshop, Alphonse was sitting outside the bedroom when he heard the most beautiful music.

It wasn't complex or even all that melodic. It was more like a person pressing keys together, trying out different combinations, trying to string together notes to form something bigger, grander.

Where was the sound coming from? Alphonse got to his feet, not even noticing the amount of clanking his armored body produced. It wasn't like anyone would notice, anyway – his big brother had always been a deep sleeper, and granny Pinako's workshop was too far away for her to pick up sound from the second floor. As for Winry…

Where _was_ Winry, anyway?

Alphonse had mastered the art of moving silently in his cumbersome body a while ago. He glided through the house, eventually ending up in the spare bedroom on the ground floor – one that was supposed to be reserved for guests who were close friends. He vaguely remembered his mother spending a night in the room when she had had a particularly bad fever and granny Pinako had hauled her over to the Rockbell home.

He hadn't noticed the piano that time, though.

It wasn't anything spectacular – an old, worn upright, with polished dark wood and pale ivory keys. The piano stool was simply made, and seated on it was Winry.

Her yellow hair, bleached silver in the faint moonlight, was messily tied back. She was still in her work outfit that consisted of a black tube top and loose white cargo pants – he could even see her green bandanna, lying on the stool next to her. Alphonse took his time to observe the surroundings before returning his attention to Winry and the fact that she was the mysterious musician.

She didn't notice him for a while – she continued to press her fingers down on the keys, experimenting with chords. Alphonse watched her quietly, unwilling to speak and break the beautiful silence between them.

Eventually, Winry raised her hands from the piano keyboard and dropped them in her lap. She picked up her bandanna and turned, preparing to get off the stool – and saw Alphonse. Her blue eyes blinked rapidly in surprise.

"Al?" she asked tentatively, remaining seated. "What are you… oh." She lowered her gaze in embarrassment. "Never mind."

He knew what she had been about to ask – what was he still doing up? Winry would have tried to deny it if he'd told her, but she was always so motherly with him. With his big brother, it was different – she was more violent than maternal with Edward, but he suspected that it was for a very good reason.

He loved her like the older sister he'd never had – he trusted her to look out for both himself and his brother. He knew that she called herself their back-up crew, and she was right – whenever they needed her, she was there. It made him feel vaguely guilty that they couldn't always be there for her when she needed them.

"What's wrong?" she asked him softly, and he realized that he'd been caught up in his thoughts. He shook his head slightly, raising both hands to reassure her.

"Nothing, nothing," he replied, his voice equally soft. "I didn't know you had a piano."

"Oh, this?" Winry glanced at the instrument, the angles of her face softening ever so slightly. "Yeah… we've had it for a while. Mom used to play, did you know?"

Now that he thought about it, he did sort of remember auntie Sara singing the three of them a lullaby, her fingers moving deftly over the white keys of a piano. "I think I remember," he told her. "That song she used to sing to us."

Winry smiled faintly. "Yeah… she taught me how to play when I was little. I never liked those lessons – mom was kind, but she was strict, too, and she made me practice every day. I used to hate the sight of this piano." She cast it another glance. "Now, it's so precious to me. Sometimes, I come here when I get frustrated with my work, and I just play some notes to calm myself down."

Alphonse moved into the room and took up a place near the piano. "You don't play pieces?"

"I don't know how." Winry sounded regretful. "I can't remember the pieces mom taught me, and we don't have any sheet music left. I can just remember the names of the notes, and some of the scales I learned earlier."

Alphonse was curious to see her play again. "Scales? What scales?"

Winry laughed softly. "You know, like C major."

He knew his helmet didn't reveal any of his expressions, but she seemed to sense his puzzlement, anyway. "Like this." She placed her fingers back on the piano and pressed two keys in unison, one with her right hand and one with her left. She went onto the next key, one higher, and did the same, all the way up eight keys and back down again.

Alphonse was enthralled by the sweet sounds. "Can I see it again?"

She smiled once more – a warmer smile. "Come here, and I'll teach you."

Alphonse moved hesitantly to her side. Winry pressed one of the keys. "This is middle C," she told him. "You have to start from here." She lifted her finger off the key and motioned for him to imitate her.

Alphonse stretched his hand towards the keyboard and gently pressed the key. Because his finger was so big, it caused the adjacent keys to be pressed as well, and produced a distinctly unmelodious jangle. Alphonse winced inwardly.

"That's okay." Winry was patient. "Try again."

Alphonse tried to press only the key she'd designated – middle C – but again, his fingers were too fat, and the sound he made was jarring. He felt his non-existant stomach drop.

"I can't do it," he mumbled, pulling his hand back. Winry caught a hold of his arm and grinned faintly.

"Of course you can." She guided his hand towards the keyboard and rested the very tip of his pointer finger on middle C. "Try again."

Alphonse sighed. Willing to humor her, he pressed down lightly.

A single, pure note rang out.

The points of light behind the eye-holes of his helmet widened. He pressed again, and the same note sounded out, so beautiful and musical.

"I knew you could do it," Winry smiled proudly. "It's not that hard, is it?"

Alphonse inwardly smiled back at her and backed away so that she could play. Winry lightly pressed the keys of the piano and produced sound, forming a familiar melody.

_Auntie Sara's lullaby._

"No," he said as he watched her play, "it's not that hard."

_Not if you're there to help me._

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_**AN: Ahh, I really wish Alphonse and Winry got a few more scenes together – Winry's always so much more gentler with him. Don't get me wrong, I **_**know**_** Winry and Edward love each other, but Alphonse's relation with Winry tends to get forgotten at times.**

**1,227 words.**


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